Harry Potter: Street King
by dart93
Summary: Abandoned at a young age by his parents for his brother, Harry runs away from the orphanage and lives on the streets. Now at the age of 14 he is known as the Street King, leader of the Saints. And now Dumbles learns of his mistake. DarkHarry StrongHarry
1. Chapter 1

-Street King-

XXXXXXXXXX

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter or the game Saints Row (Some things are used from the game)

WARNING:

Violence

Drug use

Sexual references

And Character bashing

XXXXXXXXXX

"Talking"

'Thoughts'

*Small sounds*

(Authors notes)

XXXXXXXXXX

Over the years London has been home to many street gangs, but only one has proven that their the best, the Saints, identified by their purple flags and clothing they've show to be the toughest most hardcore gang in London, one whose story is littered with bodies and drenched in blood, they are led by one man who's only know as the street king, a man known to not just send his followers into battle but joining them in the fray and helping them in a battle.

It is said that any soldier of the saints would willingly slit their own throats or blow their own brains out to keep their gangs secrets safe if the police ever caught them. It's been seen many times too and irritates the police to no end to come so close to arresting a higher ranking solider only for that solider to kill himself when he realizes that he had no chance at escape.

But after years of trying the police did what they thought was impossible, they caught the leader of the saints. Bringing about what they thought was the end of the street gang.

Little did they know how loyal these men and women truly were.

XXXXXXXXXX

Dumbledore sat at his desk in his office with his face buried in his hands. He had been wrong, he had made a huge mistake and now 14 years later he had finally realized that mistake.

14 years ago the dark lord Voldemort had attacked the potters home while they were away and killed their baby sitter while trying to do the same with their sons, the one-year-old Eric Potter, and his older by one-year brother Harry Potter. While in the process of sending a killing curse at one of the children something happened and caused the curse to rebound and strike Voldemort, killing him.

Alerted by wards the Potters and Dumbledore arrived at the Potter's family cottage only to find an unconscious Harry and a crying Eric. After a few seconds Dumbledore had announced that Eric was the chosen one seeing as he was still awake while Harry was out cold and now being ignored as he lay there with a bleeding forehead.

Now 14 years later Dumbledore had started to doubt his decision in naming Eric the Boy-Who-Lived because he showed no great power whatsoever… well except for charms seeing as his mother, Lily was the charms teacher at Hogwarts.

Hoping to dispel his worries he asked Eric if he could retrieve the memory of that night so that he could make sure his choice was right. Imagine his surprise when Voldemort fired the spell at, not Eric, but Harry hitting him right in the right side of his forehead.

Now normally he could have fixed this problem and righted it by informing the potters and starting young Harry's training but there was one little problem… ok a huge problem, the Potter's had abandoned Harry at Saint Mary's orphanage only a week after the attack.

XXXXXXXXXX

In London's main courtroom a trial was going on. Outside, word had gotten out that the saints' leader was on trial and many newspaper reporters, news crews, and other curious bystanders were standing outside waiting for word on the trial, seeing how it wasn't open to the public. Lets take a look inside.

The courtroom was normal enough, a high stand for the judge, a shorter one for the witness's; if any, two tables in front of the judges stand; one for the prosecutor and one for the defendant, and empty seats behind a elegant fence for the public to see the trial.

The judge, an elderly African woman glared down at the defendant.

"Mister James, we have seen undeniable proof that you are responsible for over 300 deaths and maybe many more, do you really expect to leave this place a free man," she asked,

The defendant, a well built tanned skinned male, dressed in a dark grey pinstripe suit with a pair of box framed glasses over his brown eyes, scratched his nose with one of his handcuffed hands before combing his brown hair with his other hand glared back at the women before replying with a small smirk, "I figured with the stature of imitations it should be closer to 250"

The judge growled slightly before snarling, "There's no stature of limitation for murder"

"Why the fuck not" James loudly asked slamming his handcuffed fists on the table.

The judge slammed her gavel on the stand. "Watch yourself Mr. James,"

"Or what, you'll hold me in contempt of court, your already planning on giving me the chair and you think I care about you not liking me, piss off." Sneered James, waving her off.

The judge hit he gavel on the stand again before leaning forward, "I'm curious to see if you can keep your cavalier attitude with 20,000 volts running through you body," she asked smugly

James leaned forward as well ignoring the lawyer's advice to stop and replied, "And I'm curious to see if you can keep acting like a douche bag when I shove that gavel up your ass"

James' lawyer spoke up, "my client would like that stricken from the record"

Suddenly gunshots echoed throughout the room along with a scream.

"What was that?" asked the judge, watching as the police officer slowly made his way to the door. Stopping in front of it he reached for the handle only of the door to explode into splinters via shotgun blast.

Walking over the now dead policemen four masked assailants wearing body armor walked in armed with automatic rifles and shotguns. The lead man walked forward and asked, "Boss are you ok."

James shrugged, "I will be when you throw me the keys to these cuffs, give me my stuff and waste that bitch over there" he told them pointing at the judge, who ducked behind her stand.

"You heard the boss get busy," commanded the lead man.

One man wielding a shotgun walked over to the judge's stand and emptied two rounds of buckshot into the judge, while another retrieved the handcuff key off the dead cops body.

The third seemed to be holding the second cop at gunpoint with an AK-47 and asked, "Ah sir what do I do with the pig right here."

James looked at the man with a deadpanned expression, "What normally happens with pigs" he asked, seeing the blank look in the mans eyes James slapped his forehead, "There sent to the slaughter house" he snapped.

"Oh" the man said quietly, sounding embarrassed before raising he rifle and open firing at the cop.

James turned back to the one who led the attack and saw him taking a duffle bag off of around his shoulder before holding it out to him while the one who got the key from the cop's body unlocked his cuffs for him.

Opening the bag he pulled out a pair of pistols and stuck them in his pants before retrieving an AK-47 with a folding stock and double clips. Pulling out the clips he checked to see if it was full and smirked at seeing they were, pulling the slide back quickly he was greeted by his favorite sound in the whole world, a gun cocking. Hearing a gasp he leveled the barrel at the dude who was defending him who was, at the moment, hiding under the table.

"Get the fuck out of here" he said evenly while lowering the gun.

The man nodded quickly and ran out of the room tripping and stumbling the whole way.

Without any warning or even looking he aimed the gun behind him and fired a single shot.

*THUD*

The five turned and looked to see the dead body of the prosecutor fall out form under the desk, it was amazing to the others for them to see their boss do shit like that. It was like magic.

"Let's get the hell out of here" he told them walking towards the splintered door with the 4 running to surround him. Two in front and the other two in back.

"Boss, we can't go out the front we have a chopper on the roof waiting for us, it'll take us to the roof of Purgatory" The one in front told him while quickly jumping around the corner and firing off two rounds hitting a cop who was caught off guard.

"Ok" James responded looking unaffected by the gun fire, following the lead two he held his rifle over his shoulders perfectly content with letting them take care of any problems at the moment.

The group stopped at a rooftop access door, the lead two nodded to each other and burst through the door, one aiming high while the other aimed low. "It's clear" they called letting James and the others pass them and make their way up to the roof. After going up three flights of stairs the opened the door and made their way towards the civilian news chopper that they came in.

James walked up to the front passenger door and opened it while the others followed his lead; waiting for the rotors to speed up James reached into his shirt and started grasping at something. Finding what he wanted he pulled causing his face to move and deform revealing that it was a mask. Pulling it off the true face of the saints' leader was revealed to the soldiers who didn't even flinch. Smirking towards the masked soldiers he threw the realistic mask and wig out onto the rooftop before holding his eye open and removing his brown colored contact lens.

Examining his true face in a mirror he frowned slightly, his race had paled slightly from the lack of sunlight and his raven colored hair was messy from being in the tight wig for an extended amount of time. Next he rubbed his eyes, they were slightly red and irritated from having the contacts in for so long making his deep emerald green eyes stand out.

Putting his fake glasses back on he rubbed his forehead where a lightning bolt shaped scar resided and looked over to the pilot, "Lets go, I've been locked of for a week and I need what every man needs after coming out of lockdown, ya feel me,"

"Yea Boss Harry, I feel ya," answered the pilot before taking off flying in the sky over London,

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You know i found this hiding in my hard drive, I don't know why I didn't post it


	2. Chapter 2

-Street King-

XXXXXXXXXX

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter or the game Saints Row (Some things are used from the game)

WARNING:

Violence

Drug use

Sexual references

And Character bashing

XXXXXXXXXX

"Talking"

'Thoughts'

*Small sounds*

(Authors notes)

XXXXXXXXXX

(I need to tell you all that Harry is a metamorph and can change his appearance if he wanted to, but just made himself look older in the first chapter. Also I'm planning on Harry being a sociopath. One last thing, Harry's street name is James Saint, but the higher up members know his real name.)

**_London Gazette _**

**_James Saint found guilty, Still goes free_**

_In a shocking turn of events, James Saint, better known as The Street King, leader of the notorious street gang known as The Saints, was busted out just moments before the guilty verdict was read by a group of heavily armed assailants believed to be higher ranking Saints. The daring attack on our courthouse left numerous dead, including five police officers, a lawyer and one judge; all viciously gunned down. __Details on how this was able to happen are sketchy and police have yet to release a statement._

"Hmm," Exclaimed Harry, folding the paper up and dropping it on the table beside his 9mm pistol. Pushing himself back he propped his feet up onto the table and leaned back until his head met the cold white stone wall of his office before he let out a sigh and thought back to what had caused all this.

XXXXXXXXXX

It had all started 13 years ago when his oh so loving parents abandoned him at St. Mary's orphanage. At first he was treated like any other kid at the orphanage but when strange things like flickering lights, busting glass, and floating objects started happening when he got mad at age five, the caretakers there singled him out, calling him a freak, saying that he was unholy and forced him to stay in a small room with only a ratty mattress and a small barred window.

For the next four years (Age 9) the constant silence and loneliness really took its toll on Harry, with the only human contact being the three small meals that a stern looking old woman brought to him daily, he soon felt himself changing on the inside. He found himself unable to truly care for anything other than himself and even started hearing voices at night; cold, hateful voices that urged him to do horrible things. He ignored the voices as best he could but when the old woman was replaced by a younger girl who tried to molest him and hit him when he tried to stop her. He snapped.

The next time the girl started touching him, he willed all his hatred, all his sadness, and all his darkness towards the girl. He heard sound of glass shattering, wood creaking and cracking, then screaming. The last thing he could remember was staring at the blood covered sign that said St. Mary's then at the burning building before thinking about what the girl told him while she molested him, _'You don't belong here, you're no saint, nobody will care about what I do to you'_

Glaring at the flaming orphanage, one thought went through his mind, 'I'll show you who's a saint'

(St. Mary's is a vary religious orphanage that hates anything viewed as unholy, and the young girl didn't see anything wrong with raping an unholy freak child)

When he woke up, Harry found himself in a gutter somewhere away from the orphanage in a more rundown part of London. (He did an accidental apparition) After that, he lived on the streets for a year (Age 10) until he really started controlling and using the strange power he had. The first time was when he was attacked by another homeless person for the moderate amount of money that he was able to collect over the year and somehow the man was able to get his hands on a old stub-nose revolver that he probably stole and pulled it on him before demanding that Harry give him the money. When Harry refused, being vary possessive of his property, the man shot. But instead of killing Harry, the bullet stopped and backfired, killing the would-be thief.

Unknown to Harry or the now dead man, another man was watching the whole thing with wide eyes. It was Johnny Gat, dressed in a pair of gray pinstripe pants, black dress shoes, and a tight purple shirt, he was a gun carrying, trigger happy psychopath who would rather shoot first and ask questions when he ran out of bullets. The same person who was now his number one enforcer and closest comrade. At first Harry tried to kill Gat with the mans revolver when he revealed himself but stopped after he ran out of ammo... and when Gat pulled out a silver desert eagle, telling him that he only wanted to talk but would waste him if he didn't stop. After that they became good friends, Harry explained what had happened to him and in an uncharacteristic show of kindness, Gat offered to let him stay with him.

For the next two years (Age 12) Gat taught Harry how to fight on the streets, using the environment and any dirty trick to win; ranging from sneak attacks to straight up brawling. He also taught him how to shoot with any gun that he could hold, from pistols to rifles and the occasional RPG. They also started a small crew, but over time when they recruited more and more people, they finally decided to make it official on the streets by taking over the small part of London that they stayed in most and canonizing the rest of the crew, allowing them to become Saints.

Officially, canonization is an act where the Christan Church declares a deceased person to be a saint and entitled to be fully honored as such.

Unofficially, it was where a person is attacked by a group of people and is either beaten for a set amount of time, or beats the other people, either way you earn your colors and are allowed to call yourself a Saint. Blood in, Blood out

Harry was the first to step up to be canonized and to everyone but Gat's amazement, he beat the six people who he had to fight quickly and then participated in the next few fights before helping them up off the ground and welcoming them into the Saints.  
They officially named the gang that night, it was out of their new found respect for the mature young man that they named the gang after him or rather the name he wanted to be known as on the streets. That night, James Saint was born and the Saints became a force to be reckoned with.

For the next year (Age 13), the Saints fought against the other major gangs of London, proving their dominance over the others by doing things that other gangs wouldn't dare do; like kidnap government officials and kill cops. There was nothing anyone could really do against them and a year later, on Harry's fourteenth birthday, he personally killed the leader of their final rival gang who wouldn't bow down and submit to them, then took over the remaining territories, making him the Street King. London was finally his.

*Knock-Knock-Knock*

The sound of someone knocking on his door broke him out of his thoughts. Sitting up. Harry flipped the safety on his pistol and calmly called out, "What?"

"Boss... Lucius Malfoy is here"

XXXXXXXXXX

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN ERIC'S NOT THE CHOSEN ONE!?" yelled lilly, who was doing a great impression of Molly when she got mad.

Dumbledore, who she was yelling at simply told her to calm down, "What I mean is that young Eric wasn't the one who destroyed Voldemort"

James, who was holding Lilly from jumping at the aged headmaster, looked at him in confusion. "Of course he did, you said so yourself,"

Sighing and looking twice as old as he normally did, he spoke, "Everyone was in a rush and it was so confusing. Learning of Peters betrayal and that the children were in danger, especially with the prophecy looming over us... but when I leaned of the dark lords fall to the light and made my decision I was overjoyed and never fully investagated, but recent occurrences have lead me to question my previous decision. Upon asking young Eric to look at the memory of that night... well I saw that it wasn't Eric who survived the killing curse, but his older brother Harry"

XXXXXXXXXX

"Mr. Malfoy, how nice to see you again," Greeted Harry.

He and Lucius had met up a few years ago when he had just turned eleven, Lucius was being harassed by a group of thugs from another rival gang and Harry just happened to come by with his friend Gat. In the end, Lucius saw the boy use wandless magic and offered to help train him in magic. After all a boy as young as him doing wandless magic like that would be a great ally. Then asked for an alliance between the Saints and his family, and possibly his master Voldemort, whom they were trying to bring back.

"Like-wise Harry," he answered taking the seat across from him and looking around, "Your new office looks a lot better than before,"

The floors and walls were made of smooth white stone matched nicely with the purple rug that covered the middle. On top of the rug was a couch facing a stripper pole and behind the couch was Harry's desk which faced the pole. The corner farthest from them had a nice sized bar stocked with bottles ranging from cheap beer, hard liquor, expensive imported sake, and fine wine lining the shelves. Then lastly was the round poker table that they sat at with six chairs surrounding it

"Wandless transfiguration isn't that hard once you get the hang of it... but enough of that, do you need something?"

Taking a second to compose himself, Lucius sopke, "Harry, the dark lord wishes to meet with you to work out a possible alliance"

XXXXXXXXXX

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HARRY'S STILL ALIVE!?"

Dumbledore blinked twice before rubbing his ear, he along with the Potters (Minus Eric) had decided to tell the order in hopes of getting some help in somehow locating the long lost boy, but what they didn't expect was for Sirius to jump up and yell so loudly.

James and Lilly looked embarrassed, well James did, Lilly was nearly in tears. The long suppressed motherly love and affection for her first born was finally rearing its head.

"You told me that he died James" Sirius snarled making James look down, Sirius hardly ever used his real name unless he was really pissed.

"Why did you lie to me James?"

Everyone was silent, not wanting to turn him to turn his fury on them.

"WELL!" Sirius demanded, nearly knocking his kitchen table over.

"Because, we thought that if we could train Eric to fight Voldemort if he returned, when we finished we could bring Harry back. We didn't want Harry to see his brother getting special training and get jealous or for Eric to see Harry living a normal life and having fun while he had to study and train" he answered in a quite voice, only now realising how stupid that sounded.

Sirius seemed get madder and madder but took a vary deep breath, "Then why didn't you let me keep him, You did name he his godfather after all, I spent thirteen years mourning his death and here you come saying that he was alive all this time, saying that you sent him to a MUGGLE orphanage... I hate you, I loved him like he was my own, named him my heir AND YOU DO THIS SHIT... from this moment forth; I, Sirius Orion Black, head of the Black family, wash my hands of you and sever any ties that I have with James Potter personally, so mote it be"

The room flashed white and the sound of something being cut by a pair of scissors echoed across the room. When the light died down everyone stared between James who looked like he was in both physical and emotional pain, and Sirius who looked vary serious before stalking out of the room and flooing away without a word to the leaky coldron.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Alright, let's go" Harry said standing abruptly.

Lucius blinked, "Now?" he questioned, not expecting him to be ready to go so soon.

Harry looked at him blankly, "Yeah, now"

"In that?" Lucius asked, pointing to his clothes.

Harry looked down at his baggy bluejeans and tight wife-beater shirt before slowly looking up at, giving him a scary 'watch yourself or die' look, "What's wrong with how I dress?"

Lucius felt his blood run cold, even Voldemort couldn't go from calm and friendly to calm, cold and pure evil like the boy in front of him could. The sharp deadly glint in his eyes that glowed as intense as the killing curse.

"Ah...ah" he shuddered trying to think of a way to save his ass from being cursed or shot at with one of those muggle weapons Harry always had with him.

Harry stood and took a menacing step forward, making Lucius press back into his chair before dropping the whole pissed off look and breaking out into a smirk. "I'm just fucking with ya, I was planing on changing anyway" he told him before walking past him and out of the room, leaving a pale Lucius Malfoy sitting in his chair.

30 minutes later, Harry walked back in dressed in black shoes and a clean pair of blue jeans held up by a black belt with a silver cross shaped buckle. His shirt was a black short-sleeve button up shirt that he left partly open, showing off one of his many tattoos, this one being a small Gothic cross on his chest.

"What took you so long?" Lucius asked setting a glass of muggle liquor and a half full bottle that he wanted to try while waiting, down on the bar.

"You know that my crew busted me out during my trial yesterday right and that i was stuck in a cell for a week heavily guarded" he asked walking up to the bar and picking up the bottle before taking a gulp of it.

Finishing off the glass that he poured himself, Lucius nodded.

"Well lastnight, I had a wild time with one of the more... loyal girls in the crew and she woke up while I was getting dressed then jumped me," Harry told him after taking one more gulp and sitting the bottle down, "and a half drunk fangirl giving you a blowjob right when she wakes up isnt the best thing in the world, I have fucking bite marks on my dick"


End file.
